A Writer's Dilemma

I have so very much run out of ideas and thoughts that I don't want to write anymore. The case here is not that I am totally out of ideas but the ideas I am getting these days are pretty random and I have not been able to figure a line of trend in those ideas. What to do man? Where do I go from here? As a result of all this, I have to keep everything that comes to mind only to myself and not tell it to any one. I can't because they are very personal things and I hate writing about my personal stuff. More than that, I hate to have my personal stuff read by others. I want to keep my emotions to myself and yet I want to express. That's why, i use a number of analogies, pretend to be someone else and write stuff about them. People think I have goten under the skin of the character. But no the fact and truth of the matter is that it's me who feels and writes. I wrote everything I felt but now this is the end of it. The writer inside me is dead. Atleast he is dormant and is gone for sometime. I guarantee you that. I can't force myself to pen stuff down just like that. I ain't no writer. I have my own stories and I tell people my own little tales in a way they think its good. People like to know what happens to other people.

Sorry for the abrupt transformation of thoughts. I actually was not getting to write because of lack of moments or moments which were too dear and near to my own soul. It takes a lot of courage to write stuff which involves the writer directly, in a way which is too grounded to the core of the person that writer is. I have a lot of stories to share but I am a scared man. I hate to see people knowing me inside out. I hate to see them speculate about my nature and general behaviour. In fact, I am scared of them for they will know me, for they will come to know I am no different from them, for my thoughts are no more unique than theirs and hence I will lose what I have in their eyes atleast! Oh mother, check out the selfish me.

Today I met the other breed of writers in form of an individual. This person writes so good that I get lost and then I stay lost for long. He writes like a fairy tale and yet gives me the touches of reality. The reason for such an impact is that he/she is not scared to write. He is not scared to share. He does not care to care about what people have for him. But sometimes, he does. The human touch is not lost in totality. I like that.

This little comfortable of world of ours is cruel actually. Most of us are pretentious people. In fact, all of us. As humans, we are nurtured in a way that does not allow our nature to decide what we would become. Everyone is too bothered about what we should become. The concept of benchmarking is a total waste. People have idols from every walk of life. Good to admire people but not at the cost of letting go your own self. Losing oneself is the biggest flaw of the entire sociometric system across geographies and cultures. And I am a small, almost irrecognizable portion of this great expanse. I can't and don't have the guts to fight it out. Neither alone nor with company. The existing empire always sees the change agents as rebels. Being a rebel is pretty stigmatized. I don't want a stigma on me. I am a writer, just a writer. I can't serve the truth to everyone. Everybody'd truth is different. Is it not? Perceptions are declared reality these days. I feel powerless, out of breath. I won't yet feed you with my true realities for they are no perceptions. For the stories, I have a few thought up, a few stolen from other's kitty. Signing off.... a coward...